Beyond Friendship
by Numenora
Summary: Aragorn is troubled and Legolas is quite concerned for him. Slash. For 2006 Mistletoe in May Fic Swap.


Title: Beyond Friendship (For 2006 Mistletoe in May Fic Swap)  
Author: Númenora  
Rating: R

Pairing: Aragorn/Legolas

Warnings: M/M Slash, Angst. Un-betaed, but vigorously proofed. Mostly movie-verse, but has some book-verse references.

Disclaimer: Not mine...wish they were...can only dream! sigh

Word-count: 3400

Request Specifics: R-rated Legolas/Aragon pairing, no AU, and hot sex, the word "albatross" (worked it in, not sure though...), no AU, no Frodo or Sam, unless they die.  
Written For: Adellia

A/N: Timeline and setting is Meduseld in Rohan; it is in the afternoon just after Gandalf and Pippin leaves for Minas Tirith (Movie RotK). That morning, the Halfling had been ensnared by the Palantír; the plot concerns the happenings in wake of this event. Though there will be mentions of Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, Éowyn, Sauron, Arwen, Haldir and King Théoden—only Aragorn and Legolas are featured/will speak. Not AU, but some things are assumed with little or no proof of 'fact'—I hope you like this fic, my dear!

Thoughts and stressed words are in italics

oOoOo

Legolas watched as Aragorn reentered King Théoden's Golden Hall at Meduseld. He worriedly searched the Ranger's face for signs of his earlier distress. The wood-elf sighed in concern to see the haunted expression still there. At first, Legolas thought that it had merely been Aragorn's concern for Pippin; the Hobbit had come under the spell of the Palantír that was recovered from Isengard. But when Gandalf had brought the Halfling around and declared him well despite the ordeal, Legolas had himself felt better about the small one. But Aragorn's face still seemed troubled. It was when the Sinda revisited Pippin's face that Legolas understood; Aragorn wore nearly the same disturbed countenance—his brief encounter with the Palantír had left its mark.

The beautiful archer had tried to speak to Aragorn about what he had seen in the glowing sphere, but he had been waved off with a fond, 'I am fine, Lassë': But he was not. Being confronted by the Eye of Sauron was no mean thing in itself. But the Palantír was known to show one's fears as well as its version of the truth. What Aragorn witness, Legolas could only guess at—he only knew that the vision had caused the one he loved pain. He may not tell me what is at the heart of it, but I will offer him any comfort that I can, the elf declared to himself. Decision made, he followed behind his dearest friend.

oOoOo

Aragorn splashed his face with cold water inside the small bathing chamber off the room set aside for him, Gimli and Legolas. Éowyn had insisted that he be given his own quarters, but he had refused until she relented and had his companion's belongings brought into the space as well. Part of him wished then that he had let her have her way as he needed to be alone with his thoughts—he was alone now, but that could change with the return of either of his friends. Grabbing a towel, he dried his face vigorously as if the act could erase what was staring back at him in the mirror.

"Enough of this!" He said aloud.

Walking back into the bedchamber, he went to the table holding his pack and retrieved his pipe and some Longbottom leaf gifted to him by Merry. Before he could light it, the doorknob turned and then rattled as someone—Gimli or Legolas he assumed—tried to enter the room.

"Aragorn—please open the door! Please, Estel," Legolas could not keep the panic out of his voice as he began knocking on the heavy wood.

Aragorn put down the pipe and practically ran to the door to see what was the matter with Mirkwood's Prince. His first reaction after hearing the movement at the door was going to be a request for solitude from whoever wanted entrance, but hearing Legolas' frantic voice quashed that notion and Aragorn's own problems moved to the back of his mind.

Quickly unlocking the door, Aragorn swung it open, reaching out, he practically yanked Legolas inside. He quickly scanned his dearest companion for injury, going as far as to run his hands along the slender, but smoothly muscled shoulders and arms then ended by touching Legolas' beautiful face and neck.

"What is the matter, Lassë—are you hurt? Speak to me, please!" The man practically demanded.

"No, Estel—I am fine, truly. I was going to inquire the same of you. You have not been well since early this morning." Legolas scanned Aragorn's face, touching it similarly as the Dúnadan had done to him.

"I am fine—truly," he said smiling as he borrowed Legolas' words of assertion.

"No, Aragorn; you are not fine." The wood-elf declared firmly.

Whenever Legolas called him 'Aragorn' in that formal way of his, the ranger knew that the elf would not be put off further. But how was he to explain his upset when he himself could barely understand it?

"I cannot talk of this, Lassë—not yet at least, for it hurts too much." Aragorn turned away and walked back to get his pipe.

"You do not have to tell me what you saw, but you must not let what the Evil Lord told you rest within your heart, Estel—he is a liar. It is in his best interest to throw you off your guard by using your worst fears against you. Do not let him, Meldir—I beg of you!" Legolas was standing next to him, lightly holding Aragorn's hand.

Staring down at the pale fingers gripping his own, tears pricked at the Dúnadan's blue-green eyes. Pulling his hand away, he moved back away from Legolas. "I know, Legolas—do not concern yourself. This will pass."

Legolas swallowed his hurt at Aragorn's withdrawal. But he knew that this wasn't about him and his feelings, but the man's own. "I only want to offer you support, Estel; I do not mean to pry."

Aragorn frowned at the wounded tone he detected in Legolas' tone and he felt regret at being the cause. "Forgive me, Mellon-nin—I do not mean to cause you worry. It is just..." He starred at his troubled reflection in the highly polished floor.

Risking another rebuke, Legolas went to Aragorn again; placing a slender finger underneath his bearded chin, he lifted the man's face to meet his.

"I care not for mine own state, Estel—I am here for you." Legolas cupped Aragorn's face before pulling him close, laying the man's head on his shoulders.

Aragorn hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his strong arms around the slighter frame. He inhaled the elf's scent as tears flowed freely from his eyes. Aragorn felt Legolas return his embrace as silent sobs wracked the man's form.

Legolas' tears soon followed as he gently rocked the beloved body pressed against him. He began to softly hum a sweet tune, one that he knew Aragorn favored; he continued until the Dúnadan visibly calmed somewhat.

A muffled voice reached his Elvish ears. "I saw a grey ship; small, but hale it was. And in the Grey Havens, it bore away the one that I hold dearest. Then the hated voice of Sauron said, 'You shall dwell alone—unloved for the rest of your days. But I shall see you crushed under my feet; a footstool shall you be and all that you treasure I will delight in destroying.'"

Aragorn's arms became as a vise, but Legolas was loathed to pull away; gladly he would bear the bruises that would surely result from the crushing embrace.

"He laughed at me as I watched Minas Tirith fall; the lands of Middle-earth lay in ruin before me. I knew that it was because I failed—failed because I could not stop the ship from leaving!" The trembling returned and Legolas rubbed the man's back, shushing him gently.

"Then send word to Imladris and beg her to stay; I know that Lord Elrond will not be please, but your happiness is paramount. Tell the one dearest to you to remain by your side—not only for the sake of Middle-earth, but for your sake, Estel!" Legolas pushed Aragorn away just enough to see his face and to stare into his troubled eyes.

"You think that it would be that simple?" At Legolas' nod, Aragorn gazed deeply into the elf's beautiful cerulean orbs and spoke, "I beg of you to stay by my side; please do not take the grey ship to Valinor—not as yet, for I could not bear it."

Legolas was confused. Why was Aragorn saying these things to him? "Estel—do you wish me to take this message to Rivendell for you? You wish me to leave you in these troubled days?" He was hurt that Aragorn could feel that he (Legolas) was not needed at his side. He swallowed his disappointment. He would do whatever was necessary to aid Aragorn.

"I will go straight away. Perhaps, I can catch up to the surviving elves and accompany them on their way to the Grey Havens." Legolas turned to go, the pain like an albatross.

Aragorn's hand flew out and captured one of the archer's pale hands. "You would go to deliver such a message simply because I ask it?"

"Yes, Estel—I would take it to Mordor if that was your desire."

"Lassë—do...do you care for me that much? Is this simply friendship or does your heart feel more." Aragorn was both eager and terrified to hear the elf's answer.

"My feelings for you are complex, Estel; there is friendship, but there is love also. You know this as I've never hidden my devotion from you."

Legolas' words said so much, but not enough to Aragorn's satisfaction. "Are you...are you...in love...with me?" The question was hesitant, but Aragorn's stare was intense.

Legolas could feel the tension from Aragorn, but he was equally tense. How could he answer that question when he had kept that part of himself hidden—much of the time from himself?

"What would you have me say, Aragorn?" Legolas was defeated. It did not matter; he would go to Arwen and bring her here if he had to. Then he would fulfill his oath to Aragorn and help him defeat Sauron. Afterwards, he would return to Mirkwood 'til Aragorn passes from Arda, finally sailing to Valinor.

"I would have the truth from you, Lassë." Aragorn cupped the wood-elf's hauntingly beautiful face, staring deeply as if into Legolas' very soul.

"I love you more than I could ever express, Estel; I have for a long time. But I have been content to be your friend only—never would I expect more from you as I know that your heart belongs to another." Legolas glanced away as a crystal tear stole down a perfect cheek.

Aragorn smiled a genuine smile as his heart lightened; Sauron's predictions became as pipe-smoke in the wind. "Then you will not leave me? You will not be taking that grey ship I saw in the Palantír?" These were more statements than questions.

"No, Estel; I will not leave you as long as you draw breath. As long as Middle-earth is in possession of you, it will be my dwelling place as well. Valinor has no sway over me as long as you are within my realm of existence." Legolas stilled as Aragorn's words sank in. The grey ship of the man's vision had born Legolas, not Arwen.

"Wait, Aragorn—the vision was of me and not..."

"It was my worst fear, my sweet Lassë." Aragorn pulled Legolas closer to him again—this time, he held the elf in delight, not sorrow.

"But Arwen...?" Aragorn cut off what Legolas had been about to say with a gentle, sweet kiss. When he had the Sinda's attention, he spoke again.

"Haldir brought to me a letter from Ada—Arwen sailed for Valinor per our discussion the morning the Fellowship left Rivendell. She accepted that our love had been the fancy of an enamored boy for a beautiful dream.

"Ultimately, it was not enough for either of us as I could not give her what she wanted most—my unrivaled devotion. After the Fellowship departed, I became aware of a deeper, everlasting love that I never allowed myself to acknowledge before." Aragorn ran the back of his fingers along the soft skin of Legolas' cheek as he spoke.

"You did?" Legolas asked bashfully just above a whisper—his youth showing through.

Laughing, Aragorn said, "Mmmm-hmmm. You see, a very lovely ellon with an extremely wicked sense of humor managed to capture my very soul without my realizing it."

"Well, that was most inconsiderate of him!" Legolas joked happily.

"It was most inconsiderate, indeed." Aragorn kissed the side of Legolas' face at the temple before gently latching onto a delicate earlobe, nibbling and tonguing it.

"I hope—Mmmm," the Sinda started, but Aragorn's suckling briefly distracted him before he could continue. "I hope...that you...thought up...a...Aahh...mmm...a suitable...pun—punishment...ai!"

Legolas found himself thinking that Aragorn must have never nibbled Arwen thusly or she never would have sailed west. Ai, but he is good!

"I have," Aragorn said. "I plan to ravish him and make him mine!" Then, suddenly serious, he inquired, "Will you be mine, Legolas?"

"I always have been." The archer was equally serious.

Aragorn smiled lopsidedly then he went over to the door. Throwing the bolt, he explained, "Should Gimli return."

Returning to his Prince, he suddenly became shy—an emotion he rarely felt. Legolas helped him by taking his hand and leading Aragorn over to one of the beds lining the wall. Sitting down, the archer pulled the Dúnadan to sit next to him on the soft coverlet before leaning over to capture Aragorn's lips with his. Except for Aragorn's sweet kiss moments before, neither had kissed the other beyond that of friendly greeting or in comfort or grief.

It was a tender exploration at first; Aragorn began tracing Legolas' lips with his tongue, remarking to himself how sweet the Elda tasted. Next, his hands moved to encircle the archer's waist, caressing the firm back as his persistent lips and tongue feasted upon the beauty before him. Legolas sighed heavily, parting his rosy lips. Seizing the opportunity, the Dúnadan deepened the kiss, nearly swooning with desire.

When Aragorn's arms came about him, Legolas felt that he was where he belonged; the joy and wonder of this realization made him happier than he thought possible. He invited the limber organ into his warm mouth, meeting the man half-way, before the Prince's tongue pushed into Aragorn's cavern. The man was a heady mixture of spice and his beloved tobacco. Legolas had always disparaged the ranger's habit, but the flavor coupled with Aragorn's natural taste changed his mind.

When the need for air availed itself, they broke apart breathing heavily; their hands, not idle, mutually touched shoulders, caressed necks, chests, entwining in soft tresses before their mouths once more sought out the other. Legolas chewed delicately on Aragorn full bottom lip, then licked as if to sooth; the man shaped his hands to the elf's skull, holding him close.

"Blast—if only I did not need air to breathe," the Imladrian exclaimed before burying his nose in Legolas' neck, beneath his left ear.

"I feel the same as I adore kissing you and being kissed by you!" The blond leaned his head to the side to allow Aragorn more access.

"I want to make love to Lassë—may I, A'maelamin?" Aragorn's tongue had found its way inside of Legolas' left ear, the man's ghosting breath making the elf shiver in delight.

"Ai, Estel—please," came the heartfelt plea.

Needing no further encouragement, the Dúnadan kissed Legolas deeply before pulling at the ties of the wood-elf's tunic. Legolas watched in silent fascination as Aragorn's fingers slowly undid his tunic; the man appeared to be in hurry as if he wished to savor every nuance of the act itself. Reaching for the hem, the green garment was pulled over the elf's blond head and tossed aside.

Sitting in just his shirt and leggings, Legolas waited before he began to unbutton Aragorn's black tunic. It became a ritual for them. Aragorn would remove the elf's shirt and Legolas would remove the ranger's; then leggings until both lay naked side by side, the coverlet pushed to foot of the bed.

"I do not think that I have ever seen anything more beautiful and wondrous as you, Lassë—not in all my wanderings through Middle-earth." Aragorn's eyes roamed over his companion's fair form.

The words pleased Legolas, not because the wood-elf was vane—for he was not; but because of the way in which they were uttered. He had no doubts that Aragorn loved him as deeply as he Loved Aragorn.

"And you are a wonder, too, my beloved Estel. Please make love to me—I yield to you and desire you inside me." Legolas opened his arms to the man and pulled him atop his slighter frame.

Aragorn moved into the pale arms eagerly, molding himself to his love then sliding between Legolas' elegant thighs. Then they kissed again. The Dúnadan didn't think he would ever tire of kissing him; he didn't believe that he would ever get enough of touching Legolas' body—delicate muscles beneath the lovely smooth, firm skin.

Legolas felt the same way, loving the tanned body of his long-time love. His smaller male hands traveled over Aragorn's lightly furred chest, strong shoulders and muscled back as he nestled him between slender, but strong thighs.

The gentle exploration ceased and as if by unspoken agreement, their passion flared up like a blaze caught by a sudden gust of wind, sparks flying into the air—the evidence trapped between them rigid and eager.

"Now, Estel—please take me," Legolas muttered against Aragorn's damp shoulder.

Nodding and breathing hard, the ranger pushed away from Legolas. He nearly laughed at the panicked look the elf gave him in response. "I shall return, Mela; I will need oil the ease the way."

Aragorn smiled lovingly; only Legolas could look sheepish and desirously beautiful at the same time. True to his word, Aragorn swiftly returned to the Elda lying supine on the bed. The Dúnadan poured oil onto his fingers and as he placed them to Legolas' secret core, he kissed the elf's beautiful lips as he prepared him to receive his passion. His mouth moved over the wood-elf's form from lips to chest to flat, hairless belly to the elf's aroused sex—tasting him. When his love was prepared, Aragorn positioned himself between the slender limbs once more and gently entered Legolas.

He was careful not to hurt the one he loved more than his own life. When Legolas gave him leave, he moved and they each made love to the other for the very first time, becoming one; unhurried at first, but then their passion would not wait. Aragorn and Legolas moved quickly, but in unison as if dancing to the music of their love. Their breathing and crying each other's names were like fine stringed instruments and their beating hearts were as drums carried on the wind in a primitive mating call. The entire song went on and on until the melody culminated in a loving crescendo of 'I love you' as the two males collapsed together, sated and replete.

It was quite some time before either of them could move or speak. Legolas recovered first, but just barely. "That was incredibly wonderful, Estel." He didn't want to allow the man to move from him just yet, so he held on tightly with arms and legs.

He needn't have bothered for Aragorn had no plans to leave his embrace either. "Yes, my love—it most certainly was. I have found my home in you—literally as well as figuratively!" Aragorn teased, but he was sincere.

Then in all seriousness, "I do not think that I could go on if you were not at my side in all things, Lassë."

"You will never have to fear that, Estel. As long as there is strength within me—in both body and fëa—I will be by your side."

Aragorn stared deeply into Legolas' exquisite blue eyes seeing the truth of the Sinda's oath. "I love you, Lassë—I do not know how I earned so great a gift as you, but I will treasure you in this life and the next."

Smiling sweetly to the other, they lay in each other's arms, drifting off for a time until their senses told them that it was tea time—a ritual as customary in Rohan as in the Elven world. Not wanting to be caught unclothed by Gimli, Merry or Éowyn, they washed, then dressed before leaving to join their remaining companions.

For the remainder of the day, Legolas occasionally glanced at Aragorn to make sure that the haunted look had left the beloved face. Seeing it was so—the pain replaced by Aragorn's love for him—the wood-elf relaxed. He knew that they still had a nearly insurmountable task to accomplish, but he felt within his heart that as long as he and Aragorn loved each other and were true to their oaths, they would succeed. They loved each other and Legolas knew it would be so until the ending of the world and beyond.

Fin

Elvish phrases/general references:

Lassë – Leaf (Quenya)

Meldir – Dear (male) friend (Quenya)

Mellon-nin – My friend

Dúnadan – Singular of Dúnedain (descendant of Númenor); a name often referred exclusively to Aragorn

Elda – Singular of the Eldar (Elf-kind/Firstborn)

A'maelamin – My beloved

Fëa – Soul/Spirit (Quenya)


End file.
